


Distancing from the enemy in plain site, facades and such..

by Nourkore



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, My real life, This is from my past and I AM SAFE NOW, im in therapy now and using this as an outlet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-09-18 03:40:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9366413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nourkore/pseuds/Nourkore
Summary: My first of many poems and stuff as i start therapy and begin working through my childhood sexual trauma and other traumas.. triggering af probably so read at your own discretion*i do post them as first/rough drafts then will change them*ALSO, i do have a bit of a regression problem sometimes which is why i use "silly" words/phrasing like butt head or sound little in moments.. i have a few more poems but im going to make them separate as i've worked past not regressing really when i write about this stuff anymore! PROGRESS!! they some fire ass poems tooo bruh i cant wait to share them! okay, bye. :3





	1. To HIM.

**Author's Note:**

> SEXUAL TRAUMA TRIGGER/INCESTUOUS CHILDHOOD TRAUMA  
> read at own discretion  
> *one of VERY FEW therapeutic out lets for me/please do not report, just dont read if you dont like/find it not helpful*  
> THANK YOU

they say you dont feel inferior unless you allow someone to make you feel that way..  
another blame the victim statement cutting like a knife in our already raw souls..  
thanks.  
yeah i dont remember having much of a choice on feeling inferior.. just sort of happened  
you see when your like me you kinda.. leave your body,  
moving,  
speaking,  
feeling is hard..  
senses dulled..  
you are, for all extensive purposes.. checked out  
kinda like how i feel right now, writing this,  
its great how i dont get to chose if i enter this state either..  
kinda like how i couldnt choose to feel inferior,  
ya just kinda made it so.. ya know.

NO you dont know, do you?  
how could you?  
you never took the time to think,  
to ask,  
to even wonder,  
i bet you couldnt care less how you made me feel..  
how i still feel just cause of "some crap that happened.."  
"you know kids being kids"  
..i laugh at the statement, kids..  
makes me think if i ever was able to just be a fucking kid..  
.. sitting here trying to remember the age difference between us and i truly forget..  
i think it makes it hurt even more,  
thinking about the details i've numbed myself out by doing these little things..  
forgetting birthdays,  
not just yours,  
everyone's so i dont fell bad about just forgetting my brothers birthday so it turns into everyone's..  
it's yet another problem i just never can fix..  
no matter the effort put into trying,  
unless i put it into some phone or calendar i wont remember.  
you fry my brain on a molecular level,  
just thinking of you,  
having to deal with you when im already hurting like i am..  
but heavens forbid i dont act my part,  
dont act the role i forgot i just HAVE to play..  
hold on,  
let me just re-repress these memories and feelings real quick,  
tidy up the mess you've made so's to not disturb the family.  
ah there we go,  
every broken piece of glass jammed back into their places inside me..  
just need a little something usually right after this to "sterilize" the wounds..  
thats a little alcoholism joke there people..  
hope that helps with the depressed vibe a bit,  
ya know wouldn't wanna give anything away..  
already did enough of that,  
forcefully,  
ew.. you truly disgust me..  
how could you..  
i swear it's sad how much i still care for this family..  
would still rather hurt myself than hurt the people that have caused me such true pain i-i truly don't know how i havent had a stroke or something from the level of stress yall give me..  
...wait till i write the poem on mom.. that'll be a good one too.. butt heads!


	2. A House is not a Home.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letter of qushtions and tearful remarks to my mom.. Whome i love too much so right now to read this crap to..  
> -i call my brother E here as to not disclose his name.-  
> *ABOUT CHILDHOOD TRAUMA/SEXUAL TRAUMA CAUSED BY HALF BROTHER*  
> Dont read if you have a problem with anything and leave if you find its not your cuppa, k! Thanks!
> 
> Also yeah i know i run off a little and its kinda all over the place its therapeutic not a freakin mosaic

*sigh*  
I love you..  
Why?  
Why am i like this?  
Why cant i just let go of the past?  
Thats what people tell other people who've gone through hard stuff.. Right?  
"Let it go.. Its all in the past."  
But the past is what makes us who we are.. The past ive had has shaped me.. Sure crap with dad has been scary but i KNEW what to expect at least, from him...  
But..  
The boy..  
The little boy i see pictures of, who grew up with me.. That face is like seeing a distant cousins baby pictures or something..  
Sure, i see the resemblance but have no memories of him, of growing up with him.. Well for the most part most of my childhood is just a black box of nothing..  
Why?  
And why are THOSE two memories, though lacking so much.. Feeling like a poloroid of a moment your not meant to see.. That was never meant to be.. Why are those memories seared into me?  
Not even my brain,  
there burnt into my heart my body,  
I cant live with out them randomly flashing back to me.  
Feelings always flooding back with them..  
Always a can't breathe type crying,  
Words dont work with my brain frying..  
Everytime i try to think about being with a man.. Getting married having a love life i some how remember..  
Who'd want me?  
Who'd find this attractive?  
Who'd want to hold me or touch me or hell wait for the months, maybe years it'd take me to get to that.. Ya know with out disosiating and feeling nausuas?  
Who would want to have to deal with all this?  
They'd think, too much..  
Too much damage,  
"Baggage"..  
Problems..  
Who would want a girl.. A broken little girl trapped in a woman's body?  
The scars i have.. On my heart my mind.. My body,  
no one, thats who.. No one would want this thing that i am.  
I thought i had gotten over it..  
God, i really, reeeeally thought i was over it..  
But how?  
How could i have if i never got to talk about it?  
If i was made to feel like it was some dirty little secret even after telling, only now i have to keep it for the sake of the family.  
Why did i never get to talk about it?  
Did the idea of having to face the truth hurt you?  
Make YOU feel uncomfortable?  
Yeah.. Me too but i needed that!  
I needed support, i needed someone to talk to, to tell me i was okay now that theyd protect me from him, that id not have to be alone with him if i didnt feel comfortable...  
I dont know just someone to tell me its not your fault..  
Its just something bad that happened but it doesnt have to difine you.. That i was still strong and still beautiful.. And that its possible to be loved by people with out them secretly having these hidden agendas..  
Why do i constantly feel like even though im disgusting and dirty and ugly that people want to take advantage of me.. That they see how insecure i am and scared so like a fly caught in a web i just stand there, i just am.. And my only state of being is to please the spider and i feel i know what the spider wants how he wants me to be,  
Move,  
Act,  
Dress..  
This analogues shit but im just.. Im not feelin fully comited to this right now.. Big surprise.  
Why am i so scared of men.. And love.. And touch?  
Well, i know why..  
But, why did it have to happen i guess is what im asking, rather.. And why doesnt he fucking care enough to even THINK of the crap hes caused me to feel and go through?  
Why do you and him blame my dad for everything when you never wanna think maybe a lot of the emotional problems i go through is from THAT crap?  
And its real rich that you all blaim dad for all of my problems but i seem to recall you telling me i told HIM, MY DAD when i told.. im not sure how long i had to wait for him to get out of jail but i choose to tell him.. THAT IN ITS SELF TELLS ME.. I WAS SCARED.. I WANTED TO BE PROTECTED. And yeah given dad never deals with that stuff right he probably went crazy.. Im not sure if this was something else but i swear i remember being terrified and uncomfortable and dad yelling at him to kiss my butt cause E did something wrong.. I always just figured it was cause i told. which i know when i say the kiss my butt thing like that its kinda haha funny but yeah memory doesnt have that vibe. Wish i could have more to my memories ya know.. I mean they suck but id like to have these vivid memories people talk about.  
Ya know.. Given how fucked up the whole families past is i get it if E used me as some twisted outlet just cause.. I mean i dont know how my dad treated him.. I dont know anything BECAUSE I CANT REMEMBER AND WE NEVER TALK ABOUT CRAP but seriously what ever went on in E's life or head thats still not reason enough to dismiss what he did to me.. whys my brother see me struggling and you, you see me struggling and everyone is just so freakin happy to blindly blaim my mind, "oh its just her bipolar acting up.. We gotta get her on meds", no its not me, ever thought that!?  
its trauma coming back to haunt me..  
But you dont care to think of that..  
Why?  
Mom, why?  
I sit hear alone.. Crying my eyes out as i try to read this over real quick, through tear filled eyes my mind is on fire i just want to ask you so many things.. And deep down i know even If i asked the answers wouldnt heal this.. Chances are i would feel some how worse.. I just have a nack for that.  
So, i type them out wondering if I'll ever have the guts to ask them regardless.  
Just for me, thats why i wanna ask, I need this just like how i needed all those things as a kid.  
One day.. One day when im not afraid of hurting you or him or anyone.. I scoff at myself, typing that line.. its not often i dont feel afraid of hurting you people, i mean look at me putting myself through all this crap and wanting so badly, just wanting my mommy to comfort me and to talk to.. But hiding it all and going it alone for your sake.. For his.. I'll probably never be able to ask you these things but it feels better getting them down and out. So I'll keep writing and hoping that one day i will be healed enough to not care if you dont care.. If i read these to you and you just dont care like when i was young.. If you brush all this off just like before.. I WILL one day be at a point where i toi wont care.. Or well, at least not like do now. An i cant wait! :)


	4. Me and the Real Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another memory i had come back to me.. I dont even know when is real.. Confermed mystery boy was real..

So there was this memory that i had and i couldnt remember when it happened, its as clear of a happening as the other 2 memories with my brother.. The knowing of what happens but just the instance of it in memory.. The photograph.

Asking my mom about the little boy who used to be at my aunts house when i went there confirmed he was real which given thats the only memory i have of him it must be true because other wise id have no knowledge of him

So what happens with mystery boy? Well.. I call him mystery boy cause i never could remember if i was older than him, if i was at an able age to have done the thing i thought i did... Come to find out he was at an age where he just starting to walk and i was at age 3... I remember feeling some intense feeling and wanting to push him and get on top of him and rock my down there bits on his but when i pushed him and just got on top of him when he started crying or making noises and then someone coming down the stairs.. So there we have it I've been fucked up since i was 3... 3.

Soooo the memories with E in the House are at 5ish.. That means stuff that i cant remember must have happened to bring on those feelings with the younger boy.

Im starting to wonder how young he started doing stuff to me.. When my brother first crossed the line... Really like when he started this shit.. Did he groom me? If so when did he first start and why? Why did he start? Something had to have happened to him.. Cause why would a kid do this shit to their little sister.... I need to talk to him when im able to.. When im strong enough in myself as a person. When i dont feel like such a fucking victim and like getting more sure of my memory is helping a lot and getting that conformation from my mom on memories that old was like a double edge sword makes me happy i have such an old memory but sad that its true in genderal because i feel ashamed.. that i did stuff too.. And.. if that ones true then... Well the two with E have to be true too... FUCK. 


	5. Cold as the Winter Wind..

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So it was snowing aaaand i had a lot goin on before hand and then the snow just brought me somewhere.. Somewhere i forgot she used to bring me.. Started writing aaaand yeah some parts are more poemy than other but im putting it up as is cause i like it.. Its not perfect and more raw feelings and first thought words rather than the more thought out ones so HERE. Enjoy its not as triggery as some of the others but ya know.. Idk ya never know so just be careful i guess.. Dont wanna trigger anyone is all. Okay thanks!

I always loved the snow..  
Loved it as it feel and lay,  
the stillness to it,  
Or its uniqnesd to be more purmenet in stay  
with its unlikeness to other season's..  
staying visible for so long there after,  
I like that it makes everything it touches like it for a little.  
A blanket of purification.  
A beautiful serenity of a large scale cleanse of the earth with out much notice before.. that cleanliness always defiled by humans.. With there stomping and mud splattering..  
The snow is quite and pure she packs a bite but she loves for sure..  
She lays herself down on the world to make it look all pretty and clean but we cant ever just sit and stare.. Its in human nature to be mean. Can't Enjoy it from a far. We have to stomp on her, pick her up and toss her where she did not belong for if she wished to land not in your path she wouldnt have.. But we are busy and we have so much to do. Who would want to stare on at her lovely silence when we could just as easily nock her about and get on as if we never knew. Never can people leave something pure in this world for long.. No we must take it and break it and taint it. We see what we are gifted and then spit in the face of the one who gives it as well as on the gift itself, throw it around where ever its pleasing to us and be done with it. We dont think that sometimes this blanketing whether comes to tell us.. Slow down, dont go, stay and just be for a little.. Just be you and i, me.  
Thats all i think when snow starts to fall and blanket over all i see.  
But i always wish and wonder if they'll ever be a day where they let her be, where everyone stays in, safe with loved ones, if they too will one day stop and look out and think what i do, and dont hurt her anymore and let her just be her, and you, you.


	6. My mind at midnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two very random points my mind worked out for some reason at 1230/1 am lol im actaully feeling really amazing and like this progression in life suddenly and my recovery... Definitely couldnt have had these moments today with out the help along that this Netflix show i fell in love with brought on, called The OA.. Im connecting a lot with the main character.. Anyways heres a random raw instalment of my mind at midnight lol.. Gonna add some of the real trippy stuff i said to my therpist too cause it was so deep feeling ya know

Thought 1:  
I feel like anything and everything can be seen as a gift its all on a matter of perception.. Even the hardest of hard ship if you look at it from the perspective of.. a choice.. Maybe someone elses maybe your owns, that shifts your life.. Sometimes it might first feel for the worst but think really hard.. You did survive, you can survive.. Even if you stay captured your whole life in a literal prison you always have your mind.. You CAN be free but the question often coming to mind is.. Do you even want it.. Do you want to be free or are you charishing this some how addictive sadness or anger.. Have you allowed it to become a part of you? And can you not let go.. Maybe it really is a part of you even so.. You can find your freedom if you just keep working to get through it and to the other side of it.. Sure you'll have it as a key chain that dangles on your hips as you walk and hits you from time to time but.. You will be able to not look down if you dont want to and even if you do it'll just be a glance back to remember its just there. It cant hurt you anymore cause you wont allow it to.

 

Thought 2:  
I think ive always liked the water because its fluidity.. Not in that its a fluid but the motion.. Its always been calming to me hearing it seeing it.. Being part of it.. Its cleansing.. It almost always some how scares me a bit but once i get past that i found being submerged in this odd liquid was kind of freeing.. Like i was experiencing some type of science.. Some literal other element me and it were meshing together.. My skin cells feeling its pressure pushing me.. Making my motions dragged out.. It was just so odd the whole thing.. I was kid that once i was in you couldn't get me out.. My lips would be blue and id say im okay.. Chattering teeth.. But 5 more minutes please im fine.. I just.. I liked the feeling of being held.. Encompassed by a being like thing that couldnt be mean or say nasty mean things to me.. It just was happy with me or sad.. It was like me in that it tried to reflect peoples self's back to them with failure.. I always want others to have these existential feelings with me.. These manic like euphorias of understanding and "being".. That peace and tranquilnes.. But i think that feeling i earn all of those feelings.. I work through a lot to get to that feeling of truly catching my breath and being enveloped in a invisible summer sun.. Nd even now its like im living in that fluidity the water holds.. My progression feeling like the lightest water surrounds me with out the lagging of motion.. Just that little kid like wonder and comfort i had found in it.. I also used to love to pretend i was a mermaid.. I have a lot if fond memories of camp and friends with swimming.. Imagine if i had let that fear stop me from ever going in? That fear that followed me from the bus to the locker rooms.. Id get this feeling in the pit of my stomach knowing id have to get undressed and others would be around was terrifyingly anxiety inducing.. I was also one of those kids who always needed a teacher not another kid or even a friend to hold my towel if there was no stales for the longest.. I never really understood this fear of others seeing my body.. But i seemed to drag it and that feeling in my tummy out as we went for the pool.. Eventually once i actually saw the water id be better.. Id smile and know all of it would be worth it to just be for a little.. To feel her all around me just being with me.. Beeming back at me prism like feeling.. Now im getting why i love Florence and the machine so much lol shes always singing about water and swimming


	7. Friends in strange places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some random stuff i remember concerning my sexuality and childhood round the age all the abuse happened..

i remember being over your house for sleep overs and being so excited that i was going to be able to feel the tingles and not be afraid.. cause you were a girl and you never pushed me just let me do what i wanted, we played make believe with what we'd do to our wrestler boyfriends. i vividly remember you teaching?.. letting?.. me learn how to kiss on the walls.. i could taste the paint and it made me feel this twist of shame in my tummy spreed down to my privates.. i thought ew, i should wanna stop.. i shouldn't like how this odd taste of paint mixing with my saliva made me feel as i moved my mouth open to it licking at it.. i feel like i remember having you watch me, which makes me think you were trying to show me how to do it.. i cant remember words well in memories but especially back then. But i feel like the feelings were highest when you watched.. i shouldn't have.. but.. i liked it. i remember feeling really good.. and thinking i should really stop i feel too good right now.. but it feels wrong too though.. i was so conflicted but unlike the memories with my brother i remember the feelings i remember the sensations.. the uneven surface of the wall painted over as if it could cover up the dents, crevasses, and other odd blemishes underneath of that short stairwell wall. i remember the complete details of the my surroundings, the smell of your grandpas prayer room only feet away, a strong musky oil cologne danced with the slight smell of the paint growing stronger with the wetness of my spit and the few times my teeth grazed the paint, tearing it up just a bit with my inexperience little mouth, my face pressed up against it. Remember thinking what if he comes up.. that just made the knot in my stomach, the excitement grow, the idea of getting caught in such a shameful act. The knowledge that we were so close to a holy place he goes to prey to the same God who watched me do these dirty little things, these bad things that i liked even though i felt i knew i shouldn't.

I remember once we played that game about out wrestler boyfriends, im not sure where you went or why i just was never scared.. with you this sexual exploration didn't feel forced.. it felt at my pace, though fast for my age i knew it was my own feelings i was being allowed to chase. You let me hide in the dark of your closet, stepping in.. on top of all your shoes, the thing was so small, i remember curling up and lookin up as you close the crinkle door. i was unsure what i was supposed to do and i don't think i did much of anything just thought things i can't quite grasp but know made me feel something bad/good.. shortly after you opened the door.. I ACTUALLY DO REMEMBER A STATEMENT! (omg i forgot, this is a rare thing people, i remember words) you joked something like "gotta give it some time to air out in here gonna smell like pussy and dick?.. sex?.. for" hours?.. days?.. weeks..? a while?... i can't quite grasp it but none the less i know what was said enough so.

Truthfully i never considered this sexual abuse in the least.. still have a hard time to call it that but thinking about it (had to look it up) you are 3 years older then me.. i personally think it wasn't but who am i to be the judge of my own mind.. i twist everything for the people who hurt me (*bitter laughter*) really thought these little times we'd play or just have music on and do make up and be silly (at times i felt slutty) girls.. it was fun it was the only time i was able to let out my sexual side (i was about to type unashamed) i mean with out feeling like you were forcing me.. like i was doing what i was just feeling and i truly think if i had felt another way i would have disassociated more but i was there.. i enjoyed myself and i was just being an "exploitative kid" in normal ways.. well other than that learning how to hump teddy bear faces but really i remember that being in someones bedroom with a bunk bed or.. maybe it was just a silver, metal bed frame.. makes me think maybe it was when i lived in Arizona with my cousins.. cause i really never thought it was you.. not fully but i figured it must have been you cause you had always been the only person i let that stuff out with that i remember.. but i was rally close with one of my cousins.. i remember even peeing on the same toilet together and thinking that it was really fun, once trying to straddle it while she sat normal behind me and the other sitting side by side... thinking back to that now i wonder if uncle Ricky didn't do stuff to his kids.. to me.. i mean he ended up going to jail for being involved sexually with a 13yr old.. did 7yrs.... he always made me feel uncomfortable too.. like when i saw him when i was in my teens after he got out and came to visit my dad he sat so close we were on each other at moments.. i kept getting up and trying to make more space but each time i sat down it seemed like i was almost on his leg or him mine. he touched my leg and smiled.. making creepy eyes and joking.. i couldn't tell you anything he said cause i was just so stuck in creeped out mode i wasnt all there. 

i dont have much memory of living there.. really none except maybe that one.. i now am really starting to believe that's who taught it to me cause i remember when stories were told bunk beds were mentioned..... something else that was mentioned was how id have nightmares/wet the bed/ or just go into my brothers bed.. i'm not sure how old i was when we were there or if it was after or before all the stuff with E (my brother) but it hurt me every time i hear how at night when i got scared id go to his bed.. but then on hillside i was always so scared at night i remember always feeling like stuff was gonna come for me.. i remember that shadow coming up the stairs (brother? i think so, his bedroom was down there) in my closet and even in the tree outside my window.. i just always was afraid of some scary man coming for me or a witch.


End file.
